


take it to the grave

by nilchance



Series: ain't this the life [36]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fellcest - Freeform, M/M, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), eventual spicykustard, kustard - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:22:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21725962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nilchance/pseuds/nilchance
Summary: A collection of further snippets in the blind!Red AU.
Relationships: Papyrus/Sans (Undertale), Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: ain't this the life [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/896544
Comments: 71
Kudos: 244





	take it to the grave

**Author's Note:**

> detailed content warnings in the endnotes
> 
> This fic is a continuation of the ATTL AU where Red blinds himself before leaving Underfell, which began [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227427/chapters/51285841), has a second part [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227427/chapters/51441151), and now will be continued here.

A floorboard creaks underfoot. Their house on the surface has a surprisingly similar layout to the one they had back home, but its bones are unfamiliar. Or perhaps Red simply wants to be heard.

Edge looks up from his paperwork. He didn't expect to see Red for the rest of the evening. His brother has another of those brutal headaches, just one more consequence of his injury. (As if Red hasn't paid more than enough.) Usually all Red wants to do is take a painkiller and curl up in a quiet room, mute and in agony, until sleep finally takes mercy and claims him. In the morning, he'll be himself again, brash and obnoxious as ever, but for now, it hurts to see him looking so fucking uncertain as he stands in the hallway outside the living room.

Edge thought his brother was invincible, once. That nothing could truly shake him. Red could pick himself back up after any punch, spit out a mouthful of blood, and smile. And he has picked himself back up, even now, but that near miss in the judgement hall changed him. It's changed them both.

"Boss?" Red asks, his voice hoarse with pain. Edge wishes he didn't know that sound so well.

"I'm here," Edge says. He normally leaves the television on at night as a way for Red to be sure he's still home, but sometimes noise makes the pain worse. The house is too silent without the inane chatter of an infomercial or Red's endless rambling and profane bullshit.

A faint line appears between Red's brows. He asks irritably, "Where the fuck is here?"

Normally Red could figure out from the direction of Edge's voice where to find him, but the painkillers they brought from their universe dull his perception a little. They barely put a dent in the pain, but Red refuses to take the stronger meds given to him by his doctor for when things are truly dire.

"The opposite end of the couch from where you're standing," Edge says. "Did you need something?"

Instead of answering, Red comes towards him. It's not the normal fearless way he moves through the familiar space of their home, which he's mapped out to the very last inch and which he knows Edge is careful to maintain exactly as it is. He walks as cautiously as an old man, one hand outstretched to feel for the couch. Edge bites his tongue and doesn't offer to go find his cane.

Eventually, Red reaches the couch and sits on it. He stares at nothing, his eyes empty black pits. His shirt is sliding messily off one shoulder, and despite everything, the sight of his bare clavicle makes Edge's soul beat a little faster.

Red exhales, long and slow, like he's steadying his aim before taking a long-distance shot at someone's head. Then he begins to painfully lower himself to lay on the couch. Edge barely manages to yank his papers out of the way before Red puts his head on his lap. For a panicked moment, Edge thinks Red is offering the least appealing blowjob ever, but Red doesn't reach for his zipper or even try to nuzzle invitingly against his pelvis. He just... rests his head on Edge's femurs and curls in on himself as if the pain won't find him here.

Edge's throat feels tight. Haltingly, he rests his hand on the familiar curve of Red's skull and strokes Red's coronal suture. Red tenses but doesn't lash out at him, and relaxes again by slow, painful degrees as Edge takes no more liberties.

Careful to keep his voice quiet, Edge asks, "That bad?"

Silence, for long enough that Edge thinks that will be his only answer. Then Red says, "Yeah."

Edge pulls the bottle of stronger painkillers from his inventory, and Red doesn't immediately jerk away or snarl when he hears the rattle of pills. Instead he sighs heavily and holds out his hand. That lack of resistance hurts Edge's soul. He gives Red one of the pills and doesn't get the chance to offer a drink or something before Red swallows it dry.

"I was going to give you water, idiot," Edge says. The frustration of helplessly watching Red hurt like this eases slightly as Red goes slack against him, swallows again with a dry click, and begins to breathe a little easier. Edge puts the pills away. "Do you want to go back to the bedroom?"

What he means is _do you want me to carry you there?_ because he doubts Red could walk a straight line right now, but Red has his pride. Edge can't begrudge him that; if he'd been the one to lose his sight, he'd be like a wounded, feral dog snapping at every outstretched hand.

(It should have been him. He's the one who's supposed to take the damage his brother can't. If one of them had to be this badly hurt, it should have been _him_.)

"No," Red says, the edges of the word slightly smeared together. The emergency painkillers are damned strong. "I wanna know where you are."

Edge's soul squeezes tight. He puts his hand on Red's throat, over the collar, and feels Red relax further under his touch. "I'm not going anywhere. Go to sleep."

Red snorts, amused by the order that he clearly can't help but obey, and shifts a little to make himself more comfortable. He would probably shank Edge for thinking the words _snuggle in_ , which is why Edge carefully does not think them.

Paperwork is out of the question. Edge'll probably just sit here for the rest of the evening and stand watch. He doesn't mind. Red reaching out to him for comfort is rare, although Red touches him more often now without the excuse of sex or sharing body heat, his way of silently confirming that Edge is there and safe. Edge wishes he could deny that a sick, starved part of him is grateful for it. He would give it up in a heartbeat to get Red's eyes back, but...

"S'rry," Red mumbles, almost too quiet to hear. A final twist of the knife, and Red isn't even trying. 

"No," Edge says sharply. He swallows against the burning lump in his throat and repeats, gentler, "No. Never for this."

There's no answer. Either Red doesn't hear him or doesn't agree. Edge thinks he's dozed off, but it's impossible to tell. Edge was never the judge. He never bore that weight. He would have if he could.

He strokes Red's collar with a thumb, comforting himself more than his brother, and settles in to wait until morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Content warnings: the usual fellverse bullshit, references to Red blinding himself, Red takes painkillers, Edge has a lot of guilt.
> 
> Sans did not take it super well when he found out Red was going to a doctor, but that's a whole nother story.


End file.
